


Shell Shock

by Exaigon



Series: DBH Oneshots (Mostly Angst Holy Hell) [3]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Tragedy, Badass North (Detroit: Become Human), Blue Hawk, Forward Observer, How about nope, Hurt No Comfort, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I wrote this so fast omg, M/M, Medic - Freeform, Military, Not accurate knowledge of the army, RK1000 - Freeform, Violence, War, What Have I Done, rk1k - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 09:36:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17241848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Exaigon/pseuds/Exaigon
Summary: Casualties of war are common but it doesn't make them any less heartbreaking.





	Shell Shock

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RK Ten Hundred (Shokubenii)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shokubenii/gifts).



> This is a gift fic for the absolutely wonderful Shokubenii! They wanted angst so I provided. :)
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this!

“Aw shit, are ya serious, Captain?”

“Sorry boys. Orders are orders. We need all hands to take back that town,” Captain Allen said grimly. “Our platoon is currently on hold from deployment back home. Once we retake this town, you’re all golden. Got it?”

“SIRYESSIR!”

Connor shifted as he dropped his salute when Allen left, his hand brushing against Markus’. He could feel the frown on his face but he had no right to complain right now. Everyone else was stuck out in this shithole too. He’d just been looking forward to-

“Hey.” Fingers jammed into his ribs and he grunted. “Stop it. It’s just like the captain said, one more go.”

“Weren’t you looking forward to-”

“Of course I was.” Connor turned his head catching the beautiful smile on the man’s lips. Lord, he still couldn’t believe that he’d confessed in a drunken stupor and Markus had reciprocated. That only happened in those clunky romance films his dad would watch.

Connor was an intensely private person, though, and he refused to tell anyone, especially out here. He appreciated his platoon but most of these guys weren’t the nicest. Especially Reed. He’d probably be all over their gay status like a fly on shit. Best way to deal with him was a steaming plate of politeness and a side of sass salad.

Markus… Sweet, open, and fearless Markus would announce their love to the world if he could. He’d told him so. But the man had respected his need for privacy and kept his mouth shut, not a peep to anyone. It made him only more endearing.

Connor flicked his fingers out catching the back of the tanned hand.

“Ouch,” Markus chuckled shaking his hand out. “Not very nice.”

“Oi, what are you two standing around for. Get a fucking move on dickfaces,” Reed sneered from the other side of their tented barracks.

“Of course. Anything to please you Reed,” Markus simpered mockingly.

“Shut your fucking face bitch tits. Try not to cry and embarrass the platoon again.”

“Perhaps you should watch for hawks. I hear they’re rather blue around you,” Connor grinned. He never understood where the term blue hawk came from, though he’d heard several different stories. All that mattered was that he’d basically called Reed an ambitious rank climbing backstabber. In front of everyone.

They all hooted and ‘ooohed’ at the slight while Reed turned red and snarled; a sure sign he was looking for a fight now.

“Load up ladies! We move in five,” their captain shouted from outside.

“You’re fucking going down, Anderson. Just wait till we get back home and I fry your fucking puppy eyed face.”

“Are you hitting on poor Anderson there,” Josh Sawyer called as he packed the rest of his supplies in the med box. “Better be careful lest you be accused of being homosexual.”

And that was why Connor had almost regretted outing himself. Everyone over here made fun of men together. It was always about woman. He just... couldn’t see the appeal. They were so fleshy and curvy. What was wrong with liking men and hard lines?

While Reed turned to rail on their medic and a few other members making jokes at his expense (namely Rupert Southgate, the sly son of a bitch), Connor loaded on the rest of his gear. His kevlar vest sat snug, his helmet was strapped, and his gun hung off his shoulder while he made sure the letter was securely tucked away in his vest pocket.

“One more mission, Manfred. Let’s kick some ass.”

“Fuck yea!”

* * *

 

“Shit shit shit shit! Fuck! Get down,” Connor roared yanking Sawyer behind a crumbling wall. The man sucked in a sharp breath and nodded his head gratefully while the thudding ping of bullets and the rattling of an automatic pounded behind them. The cacophony of noise got to him every time; the screaming, the shouted orders, the overwhelming explosion of guns and grenades and IEDs. But he always pushed through it, even in his worst nightmares, because that’s what he had to do. If he didn’t he was dead or a member of his platoon was dead. And that was unacceptable. If there was one thing Connor was good at, it was always completing his missions. Keeping his comrades alive was a high priority self important mission that he’d yet to fail.

He sucked in a sharp breath trying not to choke on the dirt and heat shimmering in the air.

“You good?”

“Yea. Thanks.”

There was a few louder shots of a shotgun and the automatic paused. Connor chanced a glance around their safety wall. Markus was standing a few meters behind where the insurgent had been.

“Anderson! Sawyers!”

“We’re good Markus!”

He levered himself up slowly, and panted, “I thought Simon said this section was clear? What the hell kind of Forward Observer is he?”

“Maybe they moved back in after he came to report. Who the fuck knows,” Sawyer grunted while scanning their surroundings.

“Gist of it is, our platoon was ambushed and separated. We need to find everyone before they start picking them off one by one,” Markus sighed as he adjusted his M500 in his hands.

“What happened to your semi?”

Markus glanced down at the shotgun before looking back at Connor with a frown. “Fucking bastard jumped me while I was saving Southgate. Reed shot him down but the gun went down a well.”

Connor blinked and he saw the same surprise mirrored on Sawyer’s face. Well, that was a slightly inconvenient way to fall to Murphy’s Law.

“Yea yea. Reed and Southgate thought it was hilarious.”

There was a yelp, a thump, and then high pitched screeching.

“Get off you motherfucker!”

They all turned, guns raised, and moved towards the distressed sound, any humor they might have just had was washed away. That was a females voice and he wondered if it was one of the two frontliner women that had been seen hanging around camp. They weren’t in any of Captain Allen’s platoons so they hadn’t had a chance to cross paths yet but Connor had major respect for any women that could joke with the boys and hold their own out here.

“Fucking come back here and die!”

An insurgent turned the corner and three bullet wounds immediately formed; two on his chest, one in the head. He fell back with a thud, the M14 falling from his hand.

“Shit! Hey, fucking bleeding out over here!”

Sawyer rushed forward slinging the shoulder strap off so he could drop his kit easily. He turned the corner a bit faster than he and Markus and Connor couldn’t help the leap of anxiety that clogged his throat. He should always be first. Not the medic.

“Dammit Sawyer, don’t you know your supposed to go last? Who the fuck else knows how to patch up battlefield idiots?”

Sawyer snorted but instead focused on the women with her helmet missing and strawberry hair half falling from its bun and a large gash covering the right cheek and side of her mouth. An obvious knife wound that would leave a ghastly scar and evidence that the man had been using her hair as leverage. She was in a sorry state with  blood leaking from her hairline and side as well. A struggle definitely occurred.

“Fucking point blank shot me in the side, fucking motherfucking son of a cunt bucket. One knocked me off the roof -he’s dead, shot him on the way down- and I cracked my head pretty hard. Then that cock sucker came at me with a knife,” she gestured to her face with bloody teeth bared, “while my head was spinning. He managed to get the gun and shoot me but he did a crap fucking job. I don’t even think he hit anything vital and I swear its a fucking straight through.”

“Well, shit,” Markus murmured in slight awe. Connor couldn’t help but agree. It would also explain the slight slur to her words he was picking up on. “Sawyer’ll get you squared away. This area is relatively defensible while he patches you. We’re gonna scout for our platoon.”

“You find any of mine, tell em North is waiting for their sorry asses to get into gear.”

“Got it.”

Connor started forward, hearing Markus follow behind him. They moved quickly and quietly, ducking in between buildings and crumbling walls. There was still the distant sound of rat-tat-tat and explosions but it was much quieter than before.

“Markus.”

Boots shuffled behind him and for an aching moment Connor wished to kiss the man senseless like he hadn’t been able to do since the night they’d confessed. But warzone kisses were dangerous and extremely inadvisable. This wasn’t a movie.

“Yea, Connor?”

“I… Nah. It’s nothing. Let’s save our guys like the badasses we are.”

“Fuck yeah,” the tanned man murmured.

It was when they were going through what looked like an old community room of some sort that he saw it. A slightly raised tile, nothing too inconspicuous, but it set off all his danger instincts at once.

“Markus stop!”

But there was too much inertia to completely divert his footing.

He stepped on the edge of the IED just as Connor threw himself forward.

It was dark and painful. There were slightly muffled sounds but mostly there was nothing. Nothing but the throbbing pain in his chest and face and the utter certainty that he was going to die.

“No,” he tried to gasp. It came out wet and bloody. “Markus. Markus!”

There was pressure on his forearm. A hand. Markus. Markus was there.

“I don’t want to die,” he gurgled. “I don’t want to die.”

He would never get to see his Dad or Cole or Sumo. He would never get to try an actual relationship with Markus. He didn’t want to die. He really really didn’t want to.

He wanted to see those blue and green eyes lit with warmth. He wanted the feel of fur between his fingers. He wanted to lay in the snow at Riverside Park with his brother and Dad. He wanted-

The hands left. They left and Connor moaned.

“Don’t leave,” he tried to beg. “Don’t leave me alone.”

The was a murmur next to his ear but he couldn’t hear it. Then he was gone.

Connor sobbed as much as he was able. He didn’t want to be alone. Dying alone was his worst fear. He couldn’t even interact with the outside world. Fuck he was going to die. He was going to die alone…

At least he would die accomplishing his mission?

.

.

.

Death was… so… cold...

* * *

 

Markus groaned as he sat up, ignoring the debilitating ringing in his brain. There was… a bomb. And he’d stepped on it. Like a fucking idiot. And Connor…?

No. No no. Connor had… had jumped in front of him. He glanced around trying to control his nausea as everything spun around him.

And then he saw him. Right next to him where he belonged. But he- he was brutalized. His face and neck were just puckered leaking masses of bloodied flesh. His vest was still smoking.

Markus had never moved so fast in his life. He rolled over, knocking his head against the floor in his haste until he was able to grasp his lovers forearm and tug himself over. He glanced down at his uncooperative legs and shuddered in horror. He was lucky he wasn’t feeling that right now.

“Connor.” He shook his arm harshly hoping to get a response. “Connor!”

“Nnn-o,” he gurgled pitifully, blood lancing up between his lips. “M-markusssss. Mar…”

“Oh fucking thank god,” he cried allowing the brimming tears to spill. If he was still responsive there was a chance.

He was not afraid of showing emotions but now was not the time. He needed to get back to Sawyer. He cleared his eyes as much as he could and took two long breaths to calm himself. His two colored eyes glanced down again and he growled. He could do this. For Connor he _would_ fucking do this.

Markus dragged himself further up so he could get close to Connor’s -more than likely- blown out ears. He might not be able to hear him but just maybe… He had to try, right?

“I’m gonna get help, okay? I’ll be right back. Hold on just a little while longer.”

Connor gurgled again, his lips moving and slight air wheezed from his mouth. He was trying to say something and Markus desperately wanted to hear it but he didn’t have time.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Markus didn’t even know it was possible to walk on utterly destroyed legs but they did say love gave you inhuman powers. He found Sawyer and North closer to their position, thankfully taking the same route he and Connor had already cleared.

“Shit Manfred! What the hell!”

“Now that is some willpower,” North muttered under her breath, gazing at him with an appraising eye.

Markus ignored them and all but collapsed, his adrenaline spent now that he’d found them.

“Connor,” he gasped desperately.

Sawyer immediately grew grim. He slung Markus over his shoulder and took off at a steady jog that North followed with a grimace, a hand held over her recently wrapped side. When they got back, Sawyer carefully set him down and North helped right him against the wall. He didn’t care for any of that. All he cared for was when the medic leaned over Connor to take his vitals.

His lungs quivered.

His heart shuddered.

His limbs throbbed and ached.

He held his breath…

And released it in a wailing sob when Sawyer leaned back and shook his head with a grimace.

* * *

 

Markus flinched as the guns went off for the final round.

His eyes burned from non stop crying but he refused to wipe it away. Even during the ceremony. He was allowed to cry for Connor who had family that would never see him again. And he was allowed to cry for himself for a future that could never happen.

It should have been him. Losing his legs was not enough. It should have been his life, not Connor’s. But it wasn’t and now he had to live with it. He had to live with the night terrors and the fear of loud sounds. He had to wake up every morning alone and mourn the loss of a beautiful person.

“Manfred.”

He turned away from the tombstone to look at Sawyer.

“The family. You asked for them, right?”

“Thanks… Josh.”

“Hey. Nobody really said anything but Reed… You and Connor were closer than-”

“Please don’t.”

Sawyer pursed his lips and nodded before turning on his heel and walking away to give them privacy. Markus turned his wheelchair to face the judgement he rightly deserved.

He’d once seen a picture Connor had hidden on his person of his family. Him holding a toddler Cole and his Dad beaming in the background standing next to a large birthday cake. They looked completely different now. Hank Anderson had huge lines carved into his face and his shoulders sagged under a heavy burden. Attached to his hand, and staring at him with glossy eyes, was a nine year old Cole. The last time Connor had seen him he had been five. Now… he’d never get to see him grow up at all.

“You Markus Manfred?”

“Yessir.”

“What do you want?”

It was short and harsh and Markus deserved every bit of scorn in there.

“Connor and I shared a platoon for years. We… decided that we’d carry each others letter and hand deliver them- in case-”

Markus choked up again and had to pause. He didn’t see the softening blue eyes regarding him. No, he was too focused on accepting his own guilt and hate and seeing it in everyone else around him.

Hank Anderson asked, tone dipping gently, “Can I have it?”

He drew it from his chest pocket with shaky fingers. It was only two papers long, much shorter than Markus’ own, which made it all the more precious. He hadn’t read it, of course. But still…

He was reluctant to part with it. It needed to go to its rightful owners no matter how much he wanted to hang onto one of the last pieces of him.

* * *

 

_Hey Dad,_

_I decided to write this in case, well. War is never pretty. So, just in case. All the things I want to tell you in person or am too afraid to send over a letter._

_I’m so fucking terrified, Dad. I want to see you and Cole again._

_I don’t know what to write sometimes and that’s why my letters so long. I’m so sorry. I don’t want to disappoint you. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry._

_Man, I look like a wuss in my previous entries. I’m afraid. I am. There’s no doubt about that but I will live up to your title Dad. One day, I’ll get there. First I might end up punching Reed in the face, though. He’s such an annoying shit._

_Dad. I think. I think I might like someone. Like actually like someone. Is this how it feels? Does your heart flutter and your belly twist? Your cheeks heat and your mind blank? It is fascinating and terrifying. And the worst part-the best part- is he’s male. Of course he is. There are no platoons with females near us._

_I just watched him take down Reed in five seconds and it was glorious. Not only did he put him down with words he also handed his ass to him on a silver platter in hand to hand combat._ _I have never had such a hard on in my life._

_Hey Dad. I just killed a man today.  Stared him right in the eye and shot him point blank in the face. You know the worst part? I felt nothing. I still feel nothing. Like I’m disconnected from everything and I’m just following a routine. What’s wrong with me?_

_I got totally wasted. And I don’t regret it for once. He likes me back. He didn’t call me faggot or chase me away. He said he admired me and my efficiency and how endearing my awkwardness could be. And I’m legit screaming into my pillow. How did this happen?_

_There was a child today. They sent a child with a bomb. I understand the tactical value of the emotional manipulation but to actually sink that low? What is wrong with people?_

_Hey Dad! Almost home! I think I’m going to bring him to meet you! Oh. I never actually wrote his name down. I guess I was subconsciously worried someone would find it and see his name. He wouldn’t care, though. I think I’d be the one most ashamed. Even though I don’t want to be ashamed. Is it so bad I want people to like me? His name is Markus Manfred._

 

_Shit, Dad. One more mission. Almost home. I just feel… something is going to go wrong._

* * *

 

Hank Anderson glanced up and realized the soldier from before was gone. The soldier his son had loved. And if he’d heard correctly from that Sawyer kid earlier, the soldier his son had died for.

Cole clutched his hand closer, gazing up at him with heartbreak.

Hank sighed and carefully folded the letter back up.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Was it enough sustenance?? :D
> 
> The mood board was provided by the lovely Kizuka_Nakahara! Thank you so much!!


End file.
